


Grow and Grow Love

by SOABA



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Canon Died a Horrible but Necessary Death, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Green Magic, Hobbit Culture & Customs, M/M, Mpreg, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOABA/pseuds/SOABA
Summary: To Thorin’s great astonishment, Bilbo is capable of growing something much more incredible than pretty flowers and green food in his garden.





	Grow and Grow Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Bilbo Baggins' Character Prompt over on Rough Trade.

**_Grow and Grow Love_ **

Hobbit secrets were the best kept secrets in all of Arda because of a solitary and uncomplicated fact – namely, that every other group of peoples which lived in the great, wide world of Middle Earth had absolutely no clue, and certainly no reason to suspect, that the gentle and earth-loving sons and daughters of Yavanna Kementári _had_ any secrets to begin with.

Elves looked upon the Green Lady’s beings and saw walking, talking flowers to coddle and adore – they loved Hobbits like they loved their green-boughed trees and timeless starlight. Men saw the smallest-of-all as little more than kind-hearted farmers and grocers, a people worthy of protecting because of the rich bounty that they could call forth from the land and trade away, for no Man understood green life as well as a Hobbit did. To Wizards, they were a simple and unchanging folk that only occasionally would an exceptional individual emerge from.

Dwarrow – at least before the Quest had reached its successful, miraculous conclusion and Bilbo’s name had been lauded amongst Mahal’s children for his part in reclaiming Erebor – were oft of the opinion that Hobbits were particularly useless. Hobbits did not bear arms and nor did they care one whit for riches and personal glory, as any honorable Dwarf would, preferring to surround themselves with blossoming flowers instead of jewels and gold. They knew very little of strife and hunger, as evidenced by their general naivety and commonly plump figures, and many a Dwarf passing through the Shire found it difficult to respect what they perceived to be the laziest and most gullible of the Valar’s sentient creations. So long had Dwarrow been separated from the children of their _Amadel_ that they had forgotten the nuances of their brother race and they did not remember that Hobbits, in the Beginning, had been designed to be the perfect compliment to their own race.

Perhaps, had Evil never risen and forced Hobbits – still a sprout of a race back in those tumultuous days – into an almost complete isolation within the protective and fertile lands of the Shire, then the other peoples of Arda would have been aware of the all the depths and facets of Green Magic and Bilbo would not have been surrounded by his panicking Dwarven kin, who had been hastily summoned away from their duties and out into Bilbo’s garden by an intensely alarmed Thorin Oakenshield.

Admittedly, Bilbo probably should have explained what he intended on doing before he actually went and did it, but… well, when a Hobbit got the _Urge_ not much aside from death could prevent him from marching out into his garden and Sowing the Seeds of his Heart and Soul into the graced earth of Yavanna. So, surely, it was quite the reasonable thing for him to determine that Thorin had overreacted upon learning what Bilbo had done and for him to state that the rest of the Company, his nephews and his brothers, had hardly behaved much better once they arrived.

“Oh, do stop,” Bilbo batted Óin and Thorin’s hands away from his face, “I don’t have a fever and I’m not ill. You all are being utterly ridiculous.”

“ _We’re_ being ridiculous?” Fíli sounded as incredulous as Bilbo had ever heard. “We’re not the ones insisting that babies are going to pop up alongside your cabbages in six months, _Idadith_.”

“I didn’t plant them in the cabbage patch, little lion,” Bilbo scoffed, shaking his head in derision at the very idea, “That would be unthinkably absurd. They’re growing beneath the rose bushes.”

There was a long moment of tense silence and then Kíli turned to Thorin in askance, “Do you want me to fetch Tauriel? Maybe she’ll know what kind of illness this is.”

Bilbo took a deep, calming breath, “I’m not sick, Kíli.”

“He could have been poisoned,” Nori suggested then, distressing all the others immediately and, in Bilbo’s opinion, unnecessarily. “This could be a side effect of some sort.”

“This could be part of some dreadful plot against Erebor,” Dori fretted.

“Everyone knows how much we love our Burglar,” Glóin added, beginning to tear up in horror, “Losing him will weaken us all.”

Thorin turned ashen at that but it was Ori who began to wail, rushing forward to hug Bilbo tightly and sob, “Please don’t die, _Nadad_! We love you so much!”

As much as Bilbo appreciated the sentiment – for all of his melodramatic Dwarrow looked gutted right then at the notion of being without him – he was rapidly losing any semblance of patience. It was no east feat, prying himself free of Ori’s arms, but he managed and then stalked purposely over to Thorin – his husband and Heartsong and king and biggest headache – and dragged the Dwarf over to the claret-colored roses growing alongside his crystal greenhouse. With a huff of sheer exasperation, he took one of Thorin’s hands and pressed it over the freshly Sown soil.

“Tell me what you feel,” Bilbo demanded.

Thorin frowned at him, still pale and shaken, but obliged Bilbo nonetheless, concentrating on the ground beneath his palm for only a few seconds before straightening his back sharply, “Magic. I can feel magic. It’s not Dwarven nor Elven and it does not feel malicious.”

“Of course not,” Bilbo exclaimed. “Green Magic is the very antithesis of dark, _Khaeluh_. It is life, pure and good and light.”

“ _Zigr Melekûnaz_?” Bifur asked carefully.

“ _Yes_ ,” Bilbo agreed in relief, gratified that at least one of them was starting to understand. “Hobbits have magic, it is gentle and almost always unassuming, but it is magic nonetheless. It is why our lands are so prosperous and the reason that no one has ever managed to take the Shire from us, even though we have no armies. We feed the land with our very presence, ensuring it thrives under our feet, and it safeguards us in return. The earth provides us with everything that we need and that includes the root-cradles which are required to nurture our children from Seed to Faunt.”

The collective countenances of the Company had gone from heart sore to uncertain, which Bilbo supposed was a step in the right direction.

“Why did you never mention any of this before, Bilbo?” Thorin’s voice was flat in a calculated way, as if he were suppressing some great emotion. “Until today, you never made mention of the possibility of us having children together.”

“Hobbits cannot simply grow Faunts whenever they please,” Bilbo explained, squeezing Thorin’s hand gently. “Yavanna must urge us to. I’ve carried our Seeds within me since the night we met, but having Seeds is no guarantee that they can be Sown in this world. Sometimes, it’s simply not feasible and… I didn’t want to tell you and then have the Urging never come. It would have hurt you.”

Thorin softened, cupping the right side of Bilbo’s face tenderly, “ _Ghivashel_.”

“Hang on,” Kíli interjected, waving his hands in the air wildly. “You’re saying that you’ve been _pregnant_ since before we all left the Shire?”

“And all the way through the Quest,” Bombur realized, his mustache twitching in distress. “And the Battle.”

“I suppose so, technically, but not in the way that Dwarrowdam can be pregnant, or Women and Elves, for that matter. The seeds live inside my heart and soul – not in my belly,” Bilbo illuminated for them.

“Blimey, Thorin,” Bofur smirked at the King, “And the two of you weren’t even courting yet.”

Thorin shot Bofur a mild glare before turning back to Bilbo, “And now you have planted the Seeds?”

“I planted _a_ Seed,” Bilbo corrected. “Gracious, Thorin, you should never Sow more than one at a time. It’s terribly bad luck.”

“Then, you’re still… pregnant, _Nadadith_?” Balin queried delicately.

“There are ten Seeds yet Rooted within me, for each Hobbit is blessed with the Blossoming of eleven when they first meet the melody of their heart, their One,” Bilbo affirmed.

“That tears it,” Dwalin declared, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at Bilbo as if to cow him into submission. “I’m assignin’ ya bodyguards.”

“Dwalin!” Bilbo protested.

“Yer marchin’ round with babes inside of ya, yer gettin’ bodyguards, Bilbo Baggins,” Dwalin said obstinately.

“Oh, but it’s not the same-”

“Laddie,” Óin interrupted Bilbo before he could plead his case, “Ye said earlier that more than one bairn was being grown.”

“Seeds can contain more than one Faunt, Óin,” Bilbo relayed blithely. “They often do, in fact. Why, my Mama had eleven siblings and her mother only had the Urge twice and my grandpapa but once. Kitzy and Tomton Bolger had thirty Fauntlings, at last count anyway, and that’s not even close to the record. I was quite the oddity, really, being an only child.”

His Dwarrow stared at him again for several long moments before Thorin tentatively spoke, “ _Khajmel_ , how many babes are there?”

“Well, there’s definitely going to be six of them and I think I can feel a seventh hiding behind their siblings. The poor dear is probably shy,” Bilbo told his husband, who gaped at him like a fish in response.

“I think that maybe we should send for Tauriel, after all,” Fíli said.

 

**_THE END_ **

************************************************************************

**Translations (Khuzdûl)**

  * _Amadel_ – Great Mother; The Khuzdûl term for Yavanna
  * _Idadith_ – Little Uncle
  * _Nadad_ – Brother
  * _Khaeluh_ – My Great Wolf
  * _Zigr Melekûnaz_ – Magic of Hobbits
  * _Ghivashel_ – Beloved
  * _Nadadith_ – Little Brother
  * _Khajmel_ – Gift of all Gifts



**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed and that you have a happy St. Patty's Day!


End file.
